


The Longest Winter

by Ijustneed12percentofamoment



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Black Widow Hunt references, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers as kids, Christmas Party, Ed Brubaker comics, Established Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Natasha Romanov Ballerina, Past Torture, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Whump, Winter, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, a little bit of stucky, buckynat - Freeform, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 02:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15038966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ijustneed12percentofamoment/pseuds/Ijustneed12percentofamoment
Summary: Sometimes Bucky felt as if he existed only during winterMontages of Bucky's struggle with PTSD during winter time, before he finds comfort in Natasha. Cute fluff ensues.





	The Longest Winter

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a prompt from my gorgeous friend who sent an "imagine if" scenario that I just couldn't let go of who also helped me through all the awkward steamy bits and BETA'd it for me.
> 
> Please note:  
> \- I do NOT own any of the Marvel characters OR Brubaker's comic inspired title/his characters or ideas  
> \- I dot NOT own the lyrics to the Imagine Dragons song 'Next To Me', but you can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-C_rvt0SwLE

 

_“So thank you,_

_For taking a chance on me_

_I know it isn’t easy_

_But I hope to be worth it._

 

_Oh, I always let you down,_

_You’re shattered on the ground,_

_But still I find you there,_

_Next to me_

_And oh, stupid things I do,_

_I’m far from good it’s true,_

_Still I find you,_

_Next to me”_

_– Imagine Dragons_

 

 

Sometimes Bucky felt as if he existed only during winter.

 

Bucky was just shy of twelve when a winter rolled into Brooklyn and put up camp so that it seemed it would never leave. Snow piled up against their doors, and wood became water logged and refused to burn. No one could get outside, let alone work, and the wind howled through the rafters during the night, rattling windows, extinguishing the fire and creeping under the blankets.

It was the first time Bucky had been terrified about Steve getting dangerously sick – breathing was always a challenge for him, but now the thin icy air rattled through him.

“Stevie?” Bucky lurched upward one night, eyes full of terror when Steve began wheezing, his lips a dark purple against ashen skin.

Adrenaline made Bucky immune to the cold as he helped Steve into a sitting position and wrapped all the blankets around him like a cocoon, squeezing him tight and rubbing his back to try and get him warm.

“Easy, breathe… c’mon. Shhh.” Bucky urged, and just as it seemed it would never get better, Steve’s breathing calmed into a more regular, albeit shaky rhythm.

“There we go.” Bucky hugged him tight, finally feeling the chill as his panic receded. But he didn’t dare let go of Steve, who despite the blankets, was still shivering like a vase in the middle of an earthquake.

Bucky unwrapped the blankets just enough for him to squeeze next to Steve before he wrapped them up tight. Pressed this close to him, Bucky could hear Steve’s teeth chattering like mad inside his mouth, could see the dark circles hollowing his eyes.

“Here, give me your hands.” Bucky whispered, bringing them close to his mouth and puffed warm air into them, before rubbing his own hands as fast as he could around them.

“Tha-thanks Buck…” Steve stuttered, his quaking slowly easing off as their bodies generated enough heat to get them through the night.

By morning, their noses were wet with cold, but Steve had survived the night.

Only 74 more to go.

 

 

Russian winters were like nothing Bucky had ever experienced before. Cruel, silent, ominous, and brutal.

Despite all his years being trained by Hydra, it still felt like Zeus was breathing burning ice into his lungs that he could never exhale. The sharp enemy would bury itself deep down into the internal crevices of his metal arm and take hold like a host until his whole being was griped by it.

Every mission he was brought out for, it was snowing. He felt like an odd, winter version of a phoenix, constantly being reborn out of the ice, being turned out into a frozen world, and returned again.

It was all he knew and yet he hated it with every fibre of his being. Something deep down inside him remembered how much he loathed seeing those grey mornings with a chill coming in from the horizon, bringing with it snow and the uncertainty who would survive the night.

He hated the snap of ice as it stretched across his body, the sharp sting as it split skin and left him too cold to even shiver.

There was one event Bucky would never forget; when the harshness of winter scared him more his handlers; when spending the night chained outside the facility became the worst of all punishments.

Hydra had called it training, but it was really because he’d accidently let slip a cowering whimper for his best friend during a wipe. Bucky didn’t even realise what he’d said, but his handlers glanced at each other with concern. Before he knew what was happening, the great metal door was being hauled open and the cutting wind sliced straight through him and stole his breath.

When he came to the next day, he was screaming as what felt like scorching water was poured over him, his skin blistered and split from winter’s grip.

It wasn’t until decades later that he realised Hydra called him the Winter Soldier. All everyone ever called him was _Asset_ or _Soldier_. At first he despised it – he couldn’t think of why they’d name him after the thing he feared the most, the thing that continuously caused him the most pain.

It wasn’t until his next mission when he was standing over the bodies of his targets that he made the connection. Blood shone against the white snow and a howling wind came over the crest of the road, whipping his hair and sending that ice blade a little deeper into his chest.

So this is what he’d become.

Cruel, silent, ominous, and brutal.

And when pressure was applied correctly – utterly breakable.

 

 

It wasn’t until he’d found this new family that Bucky had found any good connotations for wintertime. Christmas was one of them.

He’d never seen anything like Christmas until Steve had brought him to Tony’s Malibu mansion.

“He’s a bit over the top.” Steve warned. “And when I say a bit, I mean _completely_ over the top.”

Bucky had nodded good naturedly, still silently flinching at the icy breeze when the car door opened, still eyeing Steve out of the corner of his eye in case he collapsed from an asthma attack. He had no intention of spending Christmas, the coldest, most miserable time of the year holed up shivering with ten other people. Even for Miami, there was a notable chill in the air. It might have been more of an extended Fall, but Bucky still wanted out.

Steve’s warning could never prepare Bucky for what he was about to walk into. Tony opened the door with a cheer, already half drunk on spiked eggnog, and wearing an Ironman patterned ugly Christmas sweater-shirt, before he led them into the living room. Steve grinned when he saw Bucky’s jaw drop.

The tree stood over them, covered in thousands of beautiful twinkling lights. It wasn’t, as Steve noted, as tall and intimidating as last year thankfully, and Tony groaned and blamed it on Pepper. Cheery Christmas carols swam around them, carried along with the laughter that rang out, while a holographic fire crackled on the wall near the window.

“You okay?” Steve nudged him, and Bucky blinked, and closed his mouth. “I know, it’s a bit of an overload–“

“No, it’s… amazing.” Someone, most likely Clint, passed by with a “Merry Christmas!” and thrust a warm mug of eggnog in his hands, and Bucky instinctively curled his fingers around it, breathing in the spices and felt himself smiling. He had no idea something so warm and comforting could come from something so cold–

“A bit different from the 30’s, huh?”

Bucky spun and came face to face to the second reason winter wasn’t as bad as it used to be.

Nat smiled kindly at him and he found himself stuttering.

“You could say that.” He finally said, looking back up at the glittering tree.

“Come on, Steve and Clint made the best gingerbread house the other day, and you _need_ to see it before these heathens destroy it.” Nat grabbed his metal hand and didn’t even flinch at the cold touch as she led him into the kitchen. She didn’t let go, and soon it was as warm as hers, making him feel a little more human, just like Bucky had done for Steve all those years ago.

 

 

Four years later and Nat was still keeping his hands warm during winter. They both knew what a Russian winter felt like and neither of them wanted to experience that type of cold again. For the most part, they helped each other through the three months with blankets, woollen gloves and regular hot beverages, but it didn’t mean there weren’t bad days.

Winter didn’t just bring snow and wind for Bucky; it brought a thousand unwanted memories and triggers for the part of him that he never wanted to visit again. Winter brought the Winter Soldier back to him every goddamn year. Nat, knowing full well what he was going through, never flinched when he lapsed into a deep reverie or an anxiety attack. She sat by his side and helped him find himself, every. Single. Time.

What he hated the most was the night terrors. Not just because they caused him so much pain, but because sometimes they caused Nat pain too.

On the news, the weather forecast reported this to be the worst winter New York had seen in over 80 years. Somewhere deep inside, Bucky felt a sinister fear threatening to take hold.

…

The last pieces of snow and dirt washed away down the drain, but the sickening guilt did not follow. No matter how hard he scrubbed, his actions from last night wouldn’t go away. Gritting his teeth, Bucky pressed his fists against his closed eyes until he saw white dots, but even then the tears still managed to get through.

 _“You can’t punish yourself like this,”_ Nat had cried when she finally found him in an alleyway, shivering and blue in his pyjamas and bare feet. But it was the only thing he knew how to do right.

 

A cool breeze snuck in as the shower door opened, and he took his hands away from his tear stained face to see Nat smiling up at him like it was an ordinary Saturday morning. Like the bruise on her jaw wasn’t starting to purple under the warm light of the bathroom. Her radiant smile only made Bucky’s frown deepen into a wince.

“I’m sorry,” His words were husky as they got caught on the hot tears in his throat, “I’m so sorry–”

Nat reached up and gently held a hand over his mouth.

“Stop.” Her eyes pleaded, “You remember when this happened to me?”

Bucky thought back to when they’d fought the siblings a few years back ­– before the Avengers had helped them find themselves. Back then they didn’t know good from bad – he could relate to them in so many ways, but the moment the girl touched Nat, it was like he had tunnel vision.

It had taken days for the ballerina to let Nat go. Bucky was the only one to get close enough – too close – to stop Nat from killing everyone.

This time Nat had the grimace in her eyes as Bucky nodded against her palm, as she relived the moment she came back to herself, blood trickling down her temple, and her vision swimming. A scream ripped from her when her hands came away slicked in blood and Bucky staggered as he grasped for the knife in his stomach.

“Do you remember what you said to me that night in the hospital?” She whispered, tears and water droplets mixing on her lashes. Bucky reached up and took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist.

“I said you couldn’t hurt me because I was just trying to stop you from hurting yourself.” He replied, before frowning a little at the memory, “I think the morphine hit me harder than I thought, because it doesn’t really make sense.”

Nat laughed, wiping away a stray tear and grabbed his jaw playfully.

“Well it was romantic, you idiot.” She grinned. “And it applies to you right now.” His eyes softened and Nat wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight when he melted against her. Bucky dropped his head into the crook of her neck and breathed her in, his arms quaking around her. God she felt so good to hold.

“You’re a good man, Bucky. You gotta trust me.” She said, massaging his bad shoulder where she knew the cold would be harder to shift, building to cause all sorts of pain. Nat felt him flex against her fingers as she rubbed the knot out of his back and he breathed a little easier.

“Not really, no.” His voice was muffled against her skin as he kissed the length of her neck. When Bucky reached her face he only found warmth in those dark green eyes that he loved so much. He held her face delicately and smoothed away wet hair from her cheek.

“But you’re the only one who understands that.”

Nat smiled and covered his left hand with hers; leaning into the warm metal as his thumb brushed her cheek. Their shared trauma was something they could express just in a look, a touch, a kiss.

“You know I do.” She said, running a hand down to his waist and Bucky leaned in so close, he could feel her breath against his neck. “Just focus on this. Here and now. Just think about us.” Nat kissed his throat, gently nibbling on the bump of his Adam’s apple, and felt him clutch her hips. Bucky swallowed and she kept going, kissing him on the neck, the jaw, behind the ear. She rose up on her toes and kissed his closed eyes and the tip of his nose. Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist, palms spread against her back, and Nat loved the way he pressed her against him until it felt like they’d crack. She shivered as his metal fingers, hot from the water, crept up her spine.

“There we go,” She grinned, fingers knotting into his hair and pulling him down so that he could kiss the soft skin at the base of her throat. His tongue licked the water off her skin before following it down her body, and she gasped as he arched her backwards. Bucky threw a hand against the tiled wall as his mouth moved passed her breasts and she dipped her head back, desperate for him to continue his exploration.

“I think we better move somewhere a little less slippery.” She puffed and was glad to see him smile up at her, his blue eyes soft and shining bright with an intense heat.

Nat turned the water off and Bucky wrapped them both in a huge towel, barely able to keep his mouth off hers as they passed from the en-suite to the bedroom. They emerged in a puff of steam and Bucky disentangled himself to wrap the towel around Nat before lifting her up into his arms. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to scan him up and down.

“James Buchanan Barnes, you sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

He winked, “Just getting started.”

Bucky dipped her back onto the plush blankets, her wet hair sprawling out underneath her, and oh man, did her red hair look like sparkling fire against the sheets. He needed some of that fire to burn away his memories...

Kneeling on the bed, Bucky ducked his head to brush his lips over her ankle, lifting her leg to his mouth and cupping her calf with both hands like she was made of porcelain. Nat wanted to watch his every move but her eyes fluttered closed when his tongue roamed her calf before he lifted it to press his hot mouth against the back of her knee. She wrapped her other leg around his waist, his skin still damp and radiating heat from the shower. Bucky let his hands roam higher and felt her tremble beneath his touch. Pausing to suck on the supple skin of her upper thigh, he heard her exhale a sigh before he slowly unwrapped more of the towel to reveal her curving body beneath. He followed the muscles of her leg up to her waist, planting slow, tender kisses as he went, before he reached a patch of skin that was silvery and tender and he paused. Nat opened her eyes and saw Bucky inspecting the scar at her hip. The same scar he hesitated at every time.

They were silent as he traced it with his fingers – his light touch tickling her bare skin. Nat was about to say something when he lent down and gently kissed the scar, and sombre eyes flickered up to meet hers. The tides of guilt she saw in his eyes said more than enough. Bucky never ceased to blame himself for shooting her all those years ago, and she knew there was nothing she could say to make him stop blaming himself. The first time they come home together, barely a few weeks after Stark’s eventful Christmas party, he lifted her shirt up and discovered it, seemingly for the first time, before confusion and horror crossed his face. Bucky had fallen to his knees at her feet and from then on, had never so much as touched her before making his silent apology.

Nat’s lips pulled up softly now, knowing he’d never stop feeling responsible for his actions, but giving him her unfaltering forgiveness nonetheless. Bucky slid his hands under her body and she arched against him as he slowly ground his hips against hers. Bucky’s mouth had made it back up to hers when she reached down and curled her fingers around him, already hard against her. Nat’s fingers tickled against the ultra sensitive skin underneath and he made the most satisfyingly low moan into her mouth. Pinning his hips between her legs, she pivoted and rolled him onto his back, sinking onto him and gasped against his chest. Skin slick with sweat, they writhed and panted against each other, Bucky sucking and biting the soft, sweet tasting skin at Nat’s collarbone which smothered the noises coming deep in his throat. Grabbing fistfuls of the sheets under them, Nat groaned his name while Bucky’s breath came hot and fast as his lips and the tip of his nose traced the line of her throat. Nat ground her hips hard and was reward with his husky grunt as he was driven to climax. Panting hard, Bucky held her body on top of his and their racing hearts threatened to explode.

Nat’s breath tickled his neck as she nestled on top of his chest, kissing the scars along his shoulder where metal met skin. Bucky pulled the heavy duvet over them, wrapping them up to keep in the warmth. He held her close and kissed the top of her head, breathing easier for the first time in days.

Intertwined like this under the blanket, listing to each other’s heartbeats and kissing away the memories and the pain, it was hard to see how winter could ever threaten them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
